


Mistakes were Made

by Sharo



Series: Return of a Hermit [2]
Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Admin powers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious minecraft physics, Forgiveness, Gen, Mistakes, Nightmares, Self-Loathing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Xisuma's A++ Derpage, banning, because Hermits, even the ones they adopted, eventual hurt/comfort, mention of attempted deletion/suicide, self-ban, world glitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharo/pseuds/Sharo
Summary: Xisuma deals with what he’s done. A “prank” gone wrong, with devastating consequences.He may never forgive himself.An alternate pov to “A Nether Return”
Series: Return of a Hermit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983415
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	Mistakes were Made

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Whoo, boy. The angst in this one. For everyone that cried when Evil X was banned, this is for us.

He stared at the concrete wall in front of him, very carefully thinking about absolutely nothing. Not the familiar blank walls, not the stillness of the area around him, not the silence of no one else in the area. It was marginally easier than letting himself focus on the black hole in his chest, that felt like it would pull him into the void and consume him if he let any of it free.

No, no, there wasn't time for that. He took a deep breath and ignored the ache in his chest, the heavy stone that weighed him down. He didn't bother with a chair, this wasn't a time to be  _ comfortable _ . This was the time to sink into the code, to find his mistakes and  _ fix _ them. Before someone else got hurt.

_ You left him out there. You  _ **_forgot_ ** _ about him. _

The panels were opening around him, visor closed off to the outside world as lines of code and dialog were brought up, information filtered into the helmet, collating and stored as he needed. Screens flickered in and out around him as he navigated through his worldsense, armour shifting with the influx of power and helping him process the amount of data, haptic feedback drawing him to broken lines of code, cold where there should have been warm, sharp edges where something had broken.

He teleported with barely a thought, floating over a new warmth as he pieced the storyline together, followed its fingerprints back to its beginning.  _ Here _ where a player entered the world, and  _ this line _ of broken code from the intrusion, bleeding tiny glitches along the break. The player wasn't whitelisted, but also wasn't blacklisted, and the world had let them in when the code was weak. But the spawn was broken, entering into the wrong dimension in the midst of an update; one dimension deleted as a new one generated. Broken and glitched data as both the world and the player codes loaded and overwrote themselves. Layers and layers of codes before he could find the fix, pulling from older files and digging into his own player data to compare it to. Because while the world was trying to mend itself, the other player file was slowly degrading.

No, he couldn't even blame that on the update. The file was already degrad _ ed _ , too much time spent in the void outside of the world, trying to get back in. Too much data lost in between the worlds, that combined with the update was trying to overwrite his file as well. (And don't look too hard at that file, so much in even a quick glance. The number of tries to reenter the world before it had taken. The last world's address keyed in manually over and over and over, breaks of time between attempts getting longer and longer as time passed  _ didn't pass _ until it was only a single attempt of the world’s name with weeks in between. Hundreds of unsent messages still waiting for a server connection. Damage dealt and healed outside of the world, where there was no hunger and nothing or noone to damage a player, and instant regen when it was still inflicted.)

He had a grasp on the codes now, the handful of lines that he rewrote and would need to reload. The player file nearly fixed as well, also waiting for a reload to separate and restore the world connection.

<xisumavoid> i need everyone out of the nether please. we've picked up a minor bug and i need to reload it

He paid no attention to the responses in chat, instead only tracking locations and positions in the world. Later he would reassure them. After he had done everything he could to ensure their safety. He didn’t wait a tick longer than he had to as soon as the dimension was clear.

<xisumavoid> no one enter the nether please. reloading now.

He sank into the power, somewhere between the world and the void, keeping his finger on the codes as he forced a reload of the dimension. The nether disappeared around him for long ticks before reloading, chunks reloading smoothly from 0,0. The code error was gone, no longer tied to a player file or trying to rewrite it. And the player…

He teleported nearby to their coordinates, twisting around for a moment in the darkness before remembering to change his visor setting. Four Hermits clustered on and around a bed, but only three of them staring at him.

“How is-”

He was shushed immediately. That...that was good, right?  _ Void _ , he was exhausted, but he had to  _ know _ . He’d spent days trying to make this right. He focused on the man not looking at him, diagnostic taking up too much of his screen as he tested the code, searched for any remains of the glitch.

Impulse’s voice was an angry whisper. “Did you fix it?”

“I- yes, I think so. I just didn’t- I don’t-” he had to look away for a moment, unable to complete his thought while he was so focused on the data. “I don’t know if it would fix  _ him _ .” Please, please let it be enough.

Tango was curled around  _ his _ head, protective like a piglin with gold, keeping him from reaching out to- 

“His fever broke, just in the last few minutes.”

Xisuma sank to the floor, barely hearing something about blankets after that. And the code confirmed it on his screen--the player data was stable, no longer tied to and being drained or glitched by the world. Zedaph said something and he responded automatically as he saved and closed out of the running admin processes.

“What happened?”

He owed them that much, didn’t he. They had been taking care of his mistake, after all. “He entered the world in the nether, during the update reset. His code got glitched, tied in with the--it doesn’t matter, now.” It was fixed, it had to be enough, even though it had taken him so long. “I didn’t even notice.”

Impulse grabbed his shoulder, but he was afraid to look up, to see the accusation in his face. “Didn’t notice he was back, or that there was a glitch in the nether?”

He had failed. Failed the Hermits and Evil X. “Either. Both.” It was the truth, and his fault. “I was so excited for the update, I should have looked harder, made sure that it was safe. It’s-” he cut himself off. They already knew he was to blame, no sense in pointing that out. They shouldn’t have to deal with his inadequacies.

None of them should. He lifted his heavy head and looked to Zedaph. “When  _ he _ wakes up, will you tell him I’m sorry? I’ll-” No point in hiding it, either. “He probably won’t want to see me.”

He waited only for Zedaph’s nod, tp command keyed and entered.

The bedrock ceiling was a familiar sight, bringing back memories of previous worlds and command block arrays set out over the void. He lay on his back on the little glass platform, staring up at the smooth expanse of the underside of the world. 

He thought he had come so far, learning and expanding with the Hermits, stretching his knowledge and power along with theirs. 

Instead, he was still just a self-absorbed, selfish asshole who had nearly destroyed one of his friends by banning them and then  _ forgetting about it. _

Which, of course - 

<xisumavoid> nether is reset, feel free to travel again. thank you everyone

He silenced the communicator and pulled his helmet off, setting them both beside him. The static of the void wrapped around him, mere blocks above its chilling depth. He would need to poke into the codes again, make certain that the rest of the world was safe, ensure that no other glitches remained anywhere that could harm either the world or the Hermits. Gold particles floated off from his armour as he settled back to staring at the bedrock above him. He would rest here a while, recharge before diving back into work. Clear his mind until he could focus again...

  
  


**************

  
  


Etho was a quiet presence in his base, after their quiet disagreement. The urge to leave, to run away from his failure was fading as he threw himself into his work. He shouldn’t have mentioned stepping down as admin, he knew that he had the full support of the Hermits to be nominally in charge of the background workings of their world. Etho insisted that he wait and meditate on it, finish what he was doing and talk to the others before making a decision. Instead he refused to leave, steadying him as he triple checked the world generation and strings of code for anything and everything he could think of. Food and tea appeared at his side at what felt like random times, he ate mechanically, not tasting anything as he swapped from screen to screen. He barely noticed the changing colors of his armour anymore as he dipped in and out of his power, until everything was blurring together and he was backspacing more than typing anymore.

Raised voices at the entrance finally pulled him away from his work, realizing he had just been staring at the last screen for far too long.

Zedaph and Etho were standing in the doorway, both turning to him as he walked over.

Zedaph’s expression turned from frustration at Etho to absolutely  _ furious _ as soon as he was spotted.

"What did you  _ do _ ?!”

"What-” It took too long to parse the words. Did something else happen?

"Why was he banned? And  _ where _ did you ban him to, that he's so void-be-damned  _ terrified _ that you'll send him  _ back _ ?!”

There was no question  _ who _ he meant. But terrified? When would EX be-

Oh, void. Oh  _ Void _ . Evil X didn’t have a world of his own. He wasn’t just wandering around when X kicked him from the world. He was  _ in the Void. _ In the Endless Void, where there was absolutely nothing except static and stasis. All of those attempts to log back in, the unsent messages  _ because of course there was no connection in the Void _ , and the damage log-

He felt completely numb. He’d tried to perma himself. Nothing to do, no where to go, no way out, no way to tell the passage of time, he had…

There was no way he could make this better. It had been done, and there was no way to take that back. The Hermits would never forgive him for this, let alone EX.

He curled into himself, knowing what he had to do. They’d be better off without him anyway.

</ban Xisuma>

He stumbled when his feet hit the ground again, falling to his knees on the narrow strip of oak logs high above an old, familiar build. An abandoned treehouse project from years ago. His first world, first base. Or attempted base, never finished. World data was automatically scrolling in the corner of his visor but he shut it off, already knowing where he was, what he would find.

_ A better welcome than  _ **_he_ ** _ had. A world to enter, even if it was empty. _

He pushed himself to stand, walking numbly towards the long spiraling staircase down to the base, ignoring the world around him as he followed a distant memory. He should walk it, he should make the effort to travel by foot down the long tunnels to the End portal.

It wouldn’t make a difference. It wouldn’t  _ change _ what he had done.

He still knew the coordinates, it was something that he would never forget.

The last of his energy teleported him to his  _ first _ spawn, in a glitched world that had started in the End instead of the Overworld. Pale endstone stretched out around him, a sunken path leading towards the entrance of his End home. He shed his armours inside, barely registering the other items in the chest as he emptied his inventory, leaving his helmet and communicator as well. Down the hall and to the right, and close the door behind him inside the tiny bedroom meant for emergency use. The yellow wool was faded but still soft as he sank into the corner ‘bed’.

He didn’t deserve even this amount of comfort. But his eyes were already closed, and he couldn’t find the strength to get up again.

He  _ did _ deserve every nightmare that came after.

**************

Damn his universal comm. Even silenced the priority pings kept going off, letting him know someone was looking for him. Two rooms away and he could hear it, years of listening for trouble in his sleep waking him from nightmares of his friends dying by his hand, the world shaking apart and leaving him the only survivor no matter what he did, how hard he worked to fix it.

Dreams of  _ forgetting _ to fix it, and his friends dying anyway, demise-skins coming back to haunt him.

He rubbed his eyes, a rough spot in his glove catching at his cheek as he tried to focus. Why was he awake, when the stars were still out-

The comm pinged again, distant and insistent. He rolled over sluggishly, feet finding the floor further away than expected. Had he placed the bed wrong? He stared at the wool block beneath him, tired mind trying to catch up. He ignored the usual aches of interrupted sleep, crossing to the door and making it halfway through the hallway before realizing where he was.

And why he was here.

He wanted to sink to the floor, let it swallow him up and suffocate himself in the endstone brick. No, that was too easy, too quick of a punishment for what he’d done. Banishment was what he deserved, even if he couldn’t bring himself to delete the worlds he had access to, to send himself into--

He didn’t need to, though, did he. He could blacklist himself from the worlds he knew, though that would mean visiting each one, avoiding those who knew him on some.. but there were a half-dozen worlds, it would take time.

Could he do that? Send himself into the same Endless Void that he’d trapped his brother in? Would that atone at  _ all _ for what he had done?

The communicator was in his hands without remembering the trip there. Where were the priority messages he kept hearing? There weren’t-

His heart sank. Missed messages in a private chat, from the one person who almost never messaged him.

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> where are you? your friends are freaking out over here

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> seriously, did you run away? 

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> are you ignoring me?

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> if you want me to leave, just say so

Another message came in as he stared at it, the tightness in his chest rising up to grip his throat. There was really only one answer to give, even if it wasn’t enough.

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> please answer me?

<Xisuma to EvilXisuma> im sorry

He couldn’t let that happen again. No matter what, Evil X should never have to go through that horror again. He switched his screen from chat to the local admin panel, bringing up the whitelist. Two more messages came in but he ignored them for the moment.

</whitelist add EvilXisuma>

<EvilXisuma added to whitelist>

He tilted his head back, trying to remember the command for access level. Or no--that was a different panel, under server accounts… It took two tries, but he finally managed to find the correct tab, giving the added player full admin access to this world.

A deep breath only made his chest hurt more, the ache settling in somehow. He flipped back to the chat screen.

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> for what? leaving? not answering? ignoring your friends?

<EvilXisuma to Xisuma> what the -fuck- X? are you SORRY for?

He...deserved that. It hurt, but he absolutely deserved it. His reply took longer, trying to find the right words, to make sure there would be no question about his decision. Or EX’s ability to avoid the Endless Void should anything ever happen.

<Xisuma to EvilXisuma> i’m sorry for being a horrible friend, and brother. i’ve been unforgivably cruel to you, and that makes me a danger to everyone. you have another world now, you can come and go from hermitcraft as you please. i’ll ban myself to the void before deleting my file, and you never have to worry about me interfering in your life again.

Message sent, there wasn’t much else to do. He left his iron armour and inventory in the chest, fitted his helmet back on his head without turning anything on.

He took one more breath, held it as he gathered power and focused on his destination. He closed his eyes, and teleported.

</tp Xisuma EndlessVoid>

*********

He wasn’t expecting gravity, or the outside pull of a second teleport. He also wasn’t expecting to be tackled to the floor, someone grabbing and pinning his hands before his helmet was torn away.

He ended up on his back, Evil X kneeling over his chest with his arms trapped at his sides. This was it then, he wanted personal revenge. He could have-

“You look like shit.”

It was automatic. “You look like-” His eyes snapped open, and fell on the stark white hair.  _ He _ had done that. What other scars had he left, because of his carelessness?

“That’s all you got? Can’t even complete an insult?”

"I-" He was trapped, he should have struggled. Should be struggling, to get away, to finish…

He was tired. Bone-deep, achingly tired.

"I don't want to."

Evil X leaned forward, looming over him. "'Don't want to'  _ what _ , X?" He could see the purple from his own eyes reflected in silver. “Finish it.”

He closed his eyes, searching for the dregs of his power, knowing he’d spent most of it already. But he could still finish this, give him at least that peace--

A bottle smashed against his chest, cold liquid splashing and bringing with it a wave of weakness, nearly pulling him under, but also knocking away the energy he’d been pulling. Hands cupped the side of his face, warm and damp. Evil X was shaking over him and he couldn’t bring himself to tense up, still waiting for the first blow-

"Do you really hate me that much?"

" _ Void _ , no.  _ Never _ .” His sight blurred when he tried to meet his gaze and he had to look away again. How could he even- of  _ course _ he did, what else could he- “ I just-” he wanted to say it so bad he choked on it, trying to swallow down his own pain, that  _ he _ made him think that way, that- “There’s nothing I can say that would make up for what I did.” 

He breathed in the silence, afraid. Afraid to move, to shatter the shaking form above him, to disturb the penance that-

“How about ‘I’m sorry.’”

His eyes were leaking. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

He really was a complete failure. Couldn’t protect his friends, not even from himself. Not even when he  _ tried _ . The painful bubble in his chest popped, and he couldn’t hold back the ugly sobs that broke free, couldn’t even turn away and hide while EX held his face so lightly…

The world spun and he squeezed his eyes at the disorientation, and then there were arms around his back, pulling him close and holding his ribs as he twisted his hands into the forgiving shirt under him. It was hard to breathe, his head thick with tears as they forced their way out, heedless of whether or not he had enough air in his lungs. Someone tossed a blanket over them and he hid his face, tired and ashamed of his weakness, and entirely unwilling to let his brother go without knowing that he was  _ safe _ .

But Evil X let him cry, even though he couldn’t get the words out, even though he couldn’t explain he held him close, rubbed a hand across his back as his lungs ached and until he had nothing left inside.

“‘Zuma?”

He deserved to know. “It wasn’t on purpose. It was supposed to be a stupid prank, just for the day.” This was on him alone, and he shouldn’t even consider forgiving him until he knew the truth. “And then I  _ forgot. _ You didn’t deserve that.”

There was barely a pause. “I’ll be mad about it later. Too tired now.”

Stars above, how could he make that sound so  _ easy. _ To just  _ accept _ it and move on. He buried a half-laugh, half-sob into his chest, exhausted and disbelieving. 

“Pretty sure you are too. Tired, I mean. And pretty sure the bed’s more comfortable.”

So tired. He tried to agree, lungs catching on a wheeze. But there had been work to do, mistakes to fix, nightmares interrupting even that short undeserved nap. 

Firm pressure along his spine woke him up a bit from where he had already started to doze. “Come on, X. I’m not carrying you to bed this time. You still owe me.”

He risked a glance up. Evil X’s silver eyes were tired and red-rimmed like he’d been crying himself, but there was no hatred there.

“Bedtime,” he said instead, and there was a teasing fondness. “We can have a screaming match tomorrow if you like, but I’m done in.” Evil X pushed him off, twisting to reach for the red helmet sitting helpfully on the bed behind them. “Put your helmet on and get on the bed. We’re not sleeping on the floor, ya derp.”

_ We. _ Soft void, did he realize just how much he ached to hear that? He rubbed his face and put his helmet back on, picking up and offering Evil X his own before turning to the double bed and pulling the covers back.

“Where did you go, anyway?”

He should show him, let his twin explore where he had started, what he should have shared years ago. “It doesn’t matter, now.” he answered quietly. “I can show you tomorrow.”

“I’ll still be here tomorrow?”

He had offered forgiveness, and still expected to be hurt. “EX, I’m so sorry.” He turned enough to pull Evil X back into a hug, holding him as tightly as he could as their helmets bumped together, hoping with all that he had that Evil X would know someday how sorry he was. “I promise, no more bans.” He closed his eyes against the yawn that caught him out, letting his helmet rest on EX’s shoulder in apology.

And he heard the silent laughter in his response. “I’ll accept your apology tomorrow, then. Sleep now.”

It was so familiar to lay down to sleep, memories of long days caving together or exploring when they had the time and were too tired at the end of the day to bother with crafting multiple beds. Without thinking about it, he tugged at Evil X’s arm, laying on his back and drawing him across his chest. He slept better with the weight, and Evil X tended to shift more in his sleep. Evil X settled into place, helmet rested perfectly over his heart, and finally,  _ finally _ the rock there turned to gravel, breaking up and easing away as he took his first deep breath in what felt like ages, and let himself relax into dreamless sleep.

  
  



End file.
